


Sprite Stains

by blastitlouder



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: Gen, M/M, Slash if you squint, Tracks and his Finish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-16
Updated: 2013-09-16
Packaged: 2017-12-26 19:24:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/969399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blastitlouder/pseuds/blastitlouder
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There was that noise. It had been growing rather persistent over the last fifteen minutes. It was pretty easy to tune it out though, if he tried.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sprite Stains

**Author's Note:**

> Geez, I wrote this forever ago when I couldn't find any good bro-fics. Thank god that's been cleared up since.

“Raoooooul.”  


There was that noise. It had been growing rather persistent over the last fifteen minutes. It was pretty easy to tune it out though, if he tried.  
“Raaaooooooul…”  


Really, it wasn’t so bad. Turn up the walkman subtly, drown out the noise with Paula Abdul, and he could get on with this tune-up so he could go home and treat himself to cold, leftover Chinese.  
“RAOOOOUL!”  


The noise had a name and its name was Tracks. It was also decidedly male, decidedly annoying, and decidedly tapping the back of Raoul’s legs with his bumper.  
“AUGH, WHAT?!” The greasemonkey gave up, slamming the wrench down onto the engine block as he spun to face Tracks, arms crossed over his chest with his headphones dangling off an ear. “Do you mind? I’m workin’ here!”  


“Yes, I can see that,” Tracks replied, headlights flashing petulantly. “But I’ve been trying to get your attention for the past fifteen minutes. I am in need.”  


“Need, need, need,” Raoul groused, snatching a rag off the carburetor to smear the grease across his hands. “You nag just like my ex. What the hell could you possibly need while I’m workin’ at the honest job that I had to take because of your naggin’?” Tracks huffed indignantly and Raoul wondered how an expressionless car could manage to look so ruffled.  


“Oh, so you’d have preferred the dangerous life of a street tough?” he snipped back. “I was only looking after your well-being. But that isn’t the point right now!” Raoul groaned, rolling his shoulders with a frown.  


“Alright, alright, what’s your damage?” he asked, attaching on a muttered “pain in my ass sports car never should’ve stole you” as he wandered over to the mechanical primadonna.  


“Your ex!” Tracks moaned, popping open his passenger-side door with a sniff. “On my way over here, I saw her walking in the rain and, being the gentlemech I am, offered her a ride back to her flat.” Raoul rolled his eyes, already guessing where this was headed. He walked past Tracks to the work bench, fishing out a clean rag and the carpet cleaner.  


“What’d she spill in you this time, huh?” he sighed, returning to his pushy friend’s side to kneel next to the open passenger door.  


“A Sprite,” Tracks whined, gears clicking miserably. “She was dripping wet and then she spilled her soda all over my interior! Can you imagine!”  


Raoul, as it was, could imagine. Rather clearly, in fact, since it had happened on multiple occasions throughout the entire relationship with Candice. It was one of the reasons he had ended up breaking it off with her, as juvenile as it sounded. Even after the big reveal that his “car” was actually a sentient alien robot from millions of light years away, Candice had still treated Tracks like he was an ordinary car: not caring or apologizing when she spilled her drinks—which Raoul had banned from the interior in the first place—asking if she could have a turn at driving, refusing to call Tracks anything other than “your car”. Considering how close he was with Tracks, he had decided Candice’s behavior wasn’t worth her crop top.  


“And the words coming out of her mouth, you would not believe!” Tracks continued, clearly in full rant mode as Raoul tried to figure out by feel which wet spot was the soda and which was water. “She accused me of ruining your relationship. Like I had gone and seduced you with my voluptuous curves or something.” Raoul snorted openly, hiding himself under the dash as he finally located the Sprite stain, spraying down the cleanser before starting to massage the mess free just the way Tracks liked and demanded.  


“She told me—ooh, that feels spectacular, Raoul, thank you—that you broke up with her because you had some sort of weird guy-crush on me, her words not mine, and that you’d need to rely on engine grease to get anywhere after her.” Raoul’s head snapped up at that, colliding with Tracks’ dash with a resounding crack. Tracks’ horn went off in surprise, covering the blue streak Raoul was spewing against his floor.  


“Ow! Raoul, what was that?! Are you alright?”  


“M’fine…” the mechanic grumbled, rubbing at the growing lump. “She said what about me?!” Tracks sniffed, rocking on his axels as Raoul returned to work.  


“She said you wouldn’t find a girl better than her, all because your car could talk,” he responded stiffly, tone affecting a dangerous edge to it. “I was nothing but polite to her, even while she was spilling drinks and doing all sorts of dreadful things to my interior, and this is how she repays you!”  


“Repays me?” Raoul repeated, double-checking his work before drawing himself out of Tracks’ interior. “You got that backwards. You were the one takin’ all the hits, man!” He dumped the rag into one of the waste buckets, snagging one of the larger ones on the return trip to help soak up the water.  


“Oh please, I was behaving because you liked her,” Tracks said, settling with a pleased rumble of his engine as his human friend started to roll the towel over his seats. “She was—that feels divine, I swear—a total drag, but I can play nice if my friend says he enjoys her muffin or whatever you all call it.” Raoul snorted, not bothering to hide this time as he started laughing directly into Tracks’ seats.  


“I mean, I’m certain you could have done much be-Raoul, what are you doing?”  


“Nothin’, man, nothin’.”  


“Hm…whatever then. But forget about her. You aren’t going to believe who I saw—“  


There was that noise again. Easily ignorable, really, especially if he kept his hands busy drying upholstery. At least it didn’t sound so badly when it wasn’t whining at him for wax.


End file.
